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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861587">Holes: Bonus Scenes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/N16/pseuds/N16'>N16</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Holes (Story and Bonus Scenes) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bromance, Deleted Scenes, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Merlin needs to learn some self-worth, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Reaction Scene, implied alcohol abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:35:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/N16/pseuds/N16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Deleted scenes/bonus scenes from <i>Holes</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwaine &amp; Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Holes (Story and Bonus Scenes) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>265</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm sorry. I planned to have the next chapter of <i>Holes</i> up today, but I'm still not quite happy with it. Consider this my peace offering in exchange. </p><p>This scene was initially supposed to go at the end of chapter three, and then it was going to be the beginning of a different version of chapter five before it was scrapped entirely. It takes place immediately after the end of chapter three:<br/> <br/><i>“So,” Arthur said in a rough voice, then he paused to swallow and look away. When he turned back to the old man, his voice was thick with emotion. “He lives?”</i><br/><i>Gaius’s shoulders relaxed at the response, and a small smile crossed his face, weary and warm.</i><br/><i>“Yes, my lord,” he confirmed softly. “He lives.”</i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was alive.</p><p>A number of other thoughts swarmed underneath that one – Merlin had magic, Gaius had known, they had both lied to him – but those were just a dull buzz behind the shout.</p><p>The bright smile, the ridiculous clumsiness, the silly insults, the quiet wisdom, the fierce loyalty – all of those things that made Merlin <em>Merlin</em>. They were still there. Alive.</p><p><em>He was alive</em>.</p><p>And he… left.</p><p>That was the next thought to make its way successfully through Arthur’s brain. Merlin had disappeared by choice. No attack, no injury, nothing to keep him from coming back. Or from writing <em>Arthur</em> a damned letter, just to at least say he was all right. He had done the one thing Arthur had truly believed he would never do: Merlin had abandoned him.</p><p>And yet.</p><p>“He signed them all the same way,” he mumbled, and Gaius’s small smile widened.</p><p>“Yes, sire,” he confirmed. “He did.”</p><p>Gods. He lived and he’d left without a word and he’d left to protect Arthur and apparently he’d protected Arthur in the past and—</p><p>“Who lives?” a voice cut into Arthur’s spiraling thoughts.</p><p>He forced himself to focus and turned to Gwaine, who’d taken a step closer at his words.</p><p>“Arthur?” the knight repeated, his voice trembling slightly. “<em>Who lives?</em>”</p><p>“The letters aren’t from Emrys, are they?” Leon spoke up, and Arthur could hear the hope in his words that Gwaine hadn’t dared put into his own. “They’re from Merlin.”</p><p>
  <em>Emrys. Merlin.</em>
</p><p>Arthur looked back at the papers in his hand and ran a hand down his face, trying to gather his thoughts enough to compose a real sentence.</p><p>Merlin had said they needed someone who knew Arthur well – it was obvious why Merlin would check that box. But he’d also said it needed to be someone they had reason to trust. Why would those with magic trust Merlin?</p><p>Emrys was a sorcerer traveling around telling stories about Arthur. Merlin was a sorcerer traveling around telling stories about Arthur.</p><p>“It would seem,” he said finally, “that our missing manservant <em>is</em> Emrys. Unless I’m mistaken?” he added, directing the question to Gaius. He supposed it was possible Merlin was just working <em>with</em> this legendary Emrys, that he wasn’t Emrys himself. But there had been nothing in the letters about working with another sorcerer.</p><p>Of course, Merlin couldn’t just be a normal sorcerer. He had to be a <em>special</em> sorcerer.</p><p>Gaius looked away, neither confirming nor denying Arthur's assumption.</p><p>“Regardless,” Arthur continued, “Leon is right. The letters are from Merlin.” He turned to Gwaine, and although he knew he should smile, he couldn’t quite summon the expression to his face as he repeated, “Merlin lives.”</p><p>Gwaine’s breathing turned shaky, his eyes dazed as he tried to absorb that information.</p><p>“But I thought the druids said Emrys was a sorcerer,” Elyan spoke up, frowning in confusion.</p><p>“Yes,” Arthur confirmed quietly, looking at the letters again. “So they did.”</p><p>It was too much. Too many things to process, too many <em>huge</em> things to process. Arthur stood abruptly, the letters still clenched in his hand. “I’m going to, uh… study these some more,” he said awkwardly. He turned to Leon and added, “I’d like for you to review the most recent patrol reports and see what we know about locations of druid camps right now.”</p><p>“We’ll get right on it, sire,” Leon said with a nod.</p><p>Arthur turned around as he reached the door. “I ask absolute discretion from all of you,” he added as dread suddenly knotted in his stomach. “This can’t get out. Especially not now.”</p><p>The last thing he needed was for Dover to successfully do his job and discover Emrys’s identity.</p>
<hr/><p>The training dummy never stood a chance.</p><p>It was probably a good thing, Arthur noted as he nudged the dummy’s head with his foot, that Merlin was not there at the moment. The king did not have a good handle on his temper.</p><p>Every time he felt himself starting to wind down, the fatigue starting to outvoice the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions driving him, words from the letters would come back to him.</p><p>
  <em>I doubt he’ll question it or look for me.</em>
</p><p>He struck the dummy with his sword again, but even he had to acknowledge the blow was weak and unimpressive. His muscles were done for.</p><p>
  <em>It was luck that saved Arthur’s life as much as it was my magic.</em>
</p><p>Two simple words, and they changed everything.</p><p>
  <em>My magic. </em>
</p><p>Merlin’s magic.</p><p>Merlin was a sorcerer, the kind of man who <em>had</em> to be an enemy of Camelot, an enemy of Arthur. Because that’s what magic was. The enemy.</p><p>
  <em>However misguided he may be about magic, I know he’s a good man. I believe in him – I always have.</em>
</p><p>Would an enemy write those words? Would an enemy stay close enough to protect him from the shadows? Would an enemy speak of him with such a mixture of exasperation and fondness?</p><p>Would an enemy sign every letter by asking Gaius to take care of him?</p><p>Arthur realized he wasn’t hitting the dummy anymore; he was just standing on the field, staring at its headless form.</p><p>“What are you planning to do with him?”</p><p>He turned around to see Gwen watching him. From the expression on her face, she’d been there for a while. Arthur saw her eyes dart shrewdly to the dummy for just a moment before focusing again on Arthur.</p><p>“I’m not planning on removing his head, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said darkly, reluctantly sheathing his sword. Then he froze as the weight of those words hit him.</p><p>He’d meant it as a joke, but Merlin was a sorcerer. Removing his head was an entirely probable outcome. A violent shudder raced down his spine at the realization.</p><p>To his relief, Gwen didn’t react, other than to raise her eyebrows slightly as she watched the emotions on his face.</p><p>“He’s been protecting me, Guinevere,” he said wearily. “In the letters, he said… well, apparently he was protecting me even before he left. And he’s been protecting me in secret since then, in addition to trying to convince everyone with magic that they shouldn’t attack me. He <em>worries</em> about me. About whether I’m safe. He said I was a good king, that he cried when we got married. Gods, I don’t know what’s going on, but in those letters, he’s just… he has magic, but I swear, he’s still <em>Merlin</em>.”</p><p>Gwen stepped closer, then reached for Arthur’s hand and tugged him to her. He wrapped his arms around his wife, burying his face in her hair and relishing the feeling of her own arms holding him without hesitation or judgment.</p><p>“I want to bring him home, Guinevere,” he whispered. “That’s all I want, is for him to come home.”</p><p>He felt her smile against his chest before she pulled back. Then she laid a hand against his cheek, guiding his face down so his forehead rested against hers. The warmth and faith and pride in her eyes helped soothe the chaos and doubts.</p><p>“Then bring him home,” she said softly. “Find him and bring him home safe.”</p><p>His arms tightened, not from affection, but from uncertainty. “Do you think he’ll come?”</p><p>Gwen ran her thumb over his cheek. “There’s only one way to find out.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry this took me so long. Once I started <i>Seeds of Darkness</i>, it kind of took over everything, and I had no idea how long it would turn out to be! But this is now done, and I'm actively working on the sequel to <i>The Hand of the Enemy</i>. It got a bit meandering, so I re-outlined most of it last night, and I feel much better now about where it's headed. It still has a ways to go, especially since I'm writing it while posting <i>SoD</i> at the same time. But I am working on it, and I will get there! I'm grateful for everyone's patience with everything I left open-ended!</p><p>Also, I <i>know</i> this is yet another drunk conversation between friends. But in my defense, this one kind of had to be.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gwaine scowled down the hallway at the closed door, his hand clamped tightly over his arm.</p><p>Maybe it wasn’t so bad. Maybe he could just go back to his chambers and bandage it himself.</p><p>But then he felt the blood start to seep between his fingers, and he winced in resignation. With a bitter huff through his nose, he stormed down the hall and banged on the door.</p><p>
  <em>Please don’t be here. Let it be Gaius. Or let no one answer. Just please don’t—</em>
</p><p>The door swung open to reveal a familiar pale face under a mop of dark hair.</p><p>Gwaine remembered the way Merlin’s face had lit up when he’d first spotted him in the woods last week. That familiar smile, bright and friendly.</p><p>Merlin didn’t smile now. He bit his lip nervously as he recognized the visitor, then furrowed his brow in concern when he spotted Gwaine’s bloody hand gripping his arm.</p><p>“What did you do?” he demanded, stepping back and waving him into the room.</p><p>“Training accident,” Gwaine answered shortly. No need to get into specifics. Maybe he had gotten <em>slightly</em> carried away while sparring, and maybe Sir Kay had been forced into defending himself. Honestly, good for the younger knight for getting the best of him.</p><p>But then again, Gwaine hadn’t exactly been at his peak. He’d been fighting with more emotion than skill or strategy, and he knew better. In a real battle, that kind of behavior would get a knight killed. And of course, the alcohol in his system didn’t help his reflexes, despite what he’d always claimed about tavern brawls.</p><p>“Where’s Gaius?” he asked, his stomach sinking at the sight of the empty room.</p><p>“Tending to an injury in the lower town.” Merlin gathered some supplies from the shelves and carried them over to the table. “Come on, sit down.”</p><p>Gwaine hesitated.</p><p>He knew he was being a coward. He hadn’t planned to act like this; he’d planned on cornering Merlin the moment they got back. He’d planned on yelling, on demanding answers, on making sure his friend was unharmed. He’d envisioned forty different versions of that confrontation.</p><p>But Merlin had been back a week, and instead of dealing with it, Gwaine had gone out of his way to avoid the younger man. Because now that Merlin was here, alive and safe and disconcertingly the same as Gwaine remembered him, he had no idea what to say to the man he’d once considered to be his closest friend.</p><p>Merlin went still as he noticed his reluctance. “I’m just going to stitch it up and bandage it,” he said stiffly. “I promise, I won’t magic.”</p><p>It was a strange reassurance; it hadn’t occurred to Gwaine that he might use magic, although perhaps it should have. And Merlin if <em>did</em> use magic? Gwaine wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t love the idea, but it hardly topped the list of his concerns.</p><p>Gritting his teeth to hold back a sigh, he sat down and let Merlin peel his hand from the wound. His friend worked gently and quickly, with the skillful hands of a physician, although he let out an unprofessional huff of disapproval as he began cleaning the jagged wound.</p><p>“How did this happen? I don’t usually see injuries like this from training.”</p><p>Gwaine did his best not to react to the pain. “Does it matter?” he asked tersely.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to criticize,” Merlin said, his voice turning more subdued. “I’m just concerned.”</p><p>“So you’re allowed to worry about us, but we’re not allowed to worry about you?” Gwaine snapped back, and Merlin went quiet for a long moment.</p><p>“I know you’re angry at me. I’m sorry." He hesitated before adding tentatively, "Arthur said you searched for me the entire time I was gone.”</p><p>Gwaine felt his face flush at that. “It was foolish of me, I suppose,” he said roughly, trying to sound careless. “Trying to play the hero for someone who didn’t need rescuing.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Merlin repeated. “I know it sounds silly, but I never thought you would search beyond maybe a patrol or two. I mean, it’s not like you’re wandering around with no responsibilities now, like when we went to the Perilous Lands. You’re a knight now. I thought you’d be doing… knightly things.”</p><p>Gwaine let out a snort. “And you don’t think searching for you was knightly, is that it? You don’t think there’s honor in taking care of friends? You don’t think there’s a duty to investigate and address potential threats to the citizens of the kingdom?”</p><p>Merlin shook his head and dropped the bloody rag into a bowl. He reached for the needle and thread, then pursed his mouth in concentration as he tried to realign the flesh to stitch it. “I was just a servant, Gwaine. I was hardly with worth the trouble.”</p><p>“You were our <em>friend</em>.” The affection of the words contrasted with the snarl in his voice, but Merlin didn’t flinch.</p><p>“A friend with magic,” he said flatly, and his hand was slightly less gentle as he stabbed the needle into Gwaine’s flesh.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Gwaine said with a harsh laugh. “Vanishing without bothering to think of how it would affect others. Using magic. And all these years, I thought I knew you.”</p><p>He wasn’t sure how he expected Merlin to respond. To snap back, maybe. To defend himself against Gwaine’s anger. Or to apologize again, wounded and ashamed of his behavior.</p><p>But Merlin did neither. He just worked quickly with the needle, focused and neat. Gwaine stole a look at him out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t understand the expression on his face. Merlin looked… resigned?</p><p>“Why would you having magic have anything to do with us searching for you?” he asked after a couple minutes of awkward silence, and Merlin shrugged one shoulder.</p><p>“You know.”</p><p>“No,” Gwaine said, his temper rising. “I <em>don’t</em> know. That’s why I asked.”</p><p>Merlin’s mouth tightened. Gwaine thought he might be avoiding his gaze, but it was hard to tell; maybe Merlin was genuinely that focused on his work. “I’m not exactly ‘friends with knights’ material,” he said flatly.</p><p>Not exactly…?</p><p>Gwaine’s temper switched gears and boiled even higher. “What the hell does that mean?” he demanded incredulously. “You think just because I became a knight, I’d look down on you? See you as somehow less than me because you’re not nobility?”</p><p><em>Merlin?</em> <em>Merlin</em> of all people, believing that Gwaine would judge someone on their title instead of on their worth? His friend must not have known him half as well as Gwaine had always believed.</p><p>But Merlin let out a derisive snort. “Nobility has nothing to do with it, Gwaine.” He sat back, starting to reach up to run his hand through his hair, then stopping as he realized it was covered in blood. Making a face, he leaned forward again and finished the final stitches quickly.</p><p>Gwaine stared at him, wishing he could see into his friend’s mind. He could accept that there were sides of his friend that he hadn’t known, but Merlin just wasn’t making any sense.</p><p>“Break it down for me, Merlin,” he said, letting sarcasm cover the hurt. “Just pretend you think I’m an idiot and explain it in simple terms.”</p><p>Merlin let out a noisy sigh and stood, making his way to a bowl of water on the workbench to wash his hands, his back turned to Gwaine.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“It matters a hell of a lot, actually.”</p><p>Merlin scrubbed his hands for several seconds before answering. “You’re a knight, Gwaine. I’m a sorcerer. Knights kill sorcerers. And you might not have known, but <em>I</em> knew.”</p><p>Gwaine would have liked for Merlin to state it even simpler, more straightforward, so he could be sure he wasn’t misreading him. But Gwaine was fairly certain he understood perfectly.</p><p>He stormed out before Merlin could come back to bandage the wound.</p>
<hr/><p>“You honestly believe that just because I didn’t know you had magic, we weren’t really friends?” Gwaine demanded angrily as the door slammed into the wall. He’d opened it more forcefully than he’d intended, and the bottles on the shelf rattled. Gaius stared from his place at the worktable, too startled and befuddled to even look disapproving.</p><p>“Oh,” Gwaine said, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “Hello, Gaius.”</p><p>“Sir Gwaine,” Gaius said with a respectful nod.</p><p>“I was, uh, looking for Merlin.”</p><p>Gaius raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, Merlin’s door opened and the young man appeared at the top of the stairs.</p><p>“Sorry, I know I’m late—” he began in a rush, then stopped as he spotted Gwaine.</p><p>“That’s all right,” Gaius said, eyeing the knight warily. “I’ll do the rounds myself today, Merlin. And Gwaine? We <em>do</em> have patients in here sometimes, so in the future, I would appreciate it if you didn’t burst in yelling about magic.” He gave him a long look with an admonishing eyebrow, then picked up his bag and slipped past the knight and out the door, closing it with pointed gentleness behind him.</p><p>The two men stared at each other awkwardly for several seconds. Merlin started to smile, then seemed to think better of it and swallowed nervously instead.</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>Gwaine glared. He’d come in ready to yell, but bursting in on Gaius instead of Merlin had thrown his rhythm off, and it took him a moment to start again.</p><p>“So what?” he said, picking up their earlier conversation as though seconds had passed instead of days. “You thought one day I’d find out you had magic, and because I’m a knight, that would be the end of it? We wouldn’t be friends anymore?”</p><p>Merlin sighed and descended the stairs, plopping wearily into a chair. “It’s <em>magic</em>, Gwaine. In <em>Camelot</em>. And I know Arthur is being far more openminded than I ever would have dreamed, but that’s now. After a lot has happened, and people with magic have been swearing fealty. Back then…”</p><p>“Back then <em>what?</em>”</p><p>Merlin ran a hand over his face. “What do you think?”</p><p>“What exactly do you think I would have done?” he demanded. “Turned you in? Maybe just run you through myself?”</p><p>Merlin blanched, and Gwaine’s stomach turned in horror.</p><p>“Are you serious? You think I would have done that? To <em>you?</em>”</p><p>“I’m a <em>sorcerer!</em>” Merlin yelled, but it was a contained, quiet yell, accompanied by a nervous glance at the door. “In Camelot! What about this aren’t you getting, Gwaine?”</p><p>“And where do all of our years of friendship fit into this equation?” he asked, his voice cold.</p><p>Merlin looked away guiltily, wrapping his arms around his torso. “You’ve always been a good friend to me,” he said quietly. “And I would do anything for you. But it’s hard to… feel close to someone, knowing what could happen someday. That they might kill you, if you’re discovered in the wrong moment. That they may arrest you, may be responsible for forcing you to your knees, may be the one to lock you in a cell. I would never be your enemy, Gwaine. But I always knew that one day, you could be mine.”</p><p>Gwaine stared at him for a long moment, fists clenched at his side.</p><p>Merlin meant it. He meant every word of it. From the way he spoke, he’d pictured it. He <em>could</em> picture it. He could imagine Gwaine doing those things.</p><p>Gods.</p><p>“Go to hell,” Gwaine choked out through his anger. And he fled before Merlin could reply.</p>
<hr/><p>Two weeks passed before Gwaine calmed down enough to go back. Every time he thought about continuing their conversation, he’d try to picture the version of himself that Merlin apparently saw; someone who could hurt or arrest or abandon his friend. And the fury would rise again, and he’d go out of his way to avoid the wing of the castle containing the infirmary.</p><p>Twice, Merlin came looking for him. The younger man had knocked on his door, calling his name softly. Once, he’d said, “I know you’re in there.” But Gwaine had sat very still, careful not to make any noise, and the sorcerer had given up after a few minutes.</p><p>In the end, he sought Merlin out not because he’d grown less angry with time, but because he’d grown more so, although it had evolved into a quieter anger.</p><p>He found him alone, working on bottling potions for Gaius. Merlin froze when Gwaine let himself in, then moved slowly to put the equipment down. His eyes followed the knight as he moved across the room, like a rabbit tracking a predator.</p><p>“We were friends for over a year before I became a knight,” Gwaine began without preamble. “You said our friendship wasn’t real because you were a sorcerer and I was a knight, but what about that year?”</p><p>Merlin blinked, taken aback, and then he scowled. “I never said our friendship wasn’t real,” he denied. “I said it’s hard to feel close to someone in that position. It’s hard to <em>trust</em> them. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.”</p><p>Gwaine snorted. “A friendship means nothing without trust.”</p><p>“It meant something to me,” Merlin answered quietly, and Gwaine gritted his teeth, trying not to let Merlin’s sincerity cool his anger. “When you’re born with magic, trust is a luxury you can’t afford. That’s just the way it is. But your friendship has always mattered to me.”</p><p>Born with magic? Gwaine paused, studying the man before him with new eyes. Was that even possible?</p><p>And if it was…</p><p>“Have you never had a friend you trusted?” He had to force as much bitterness as he could into the last few words; the first part of the sentence had come out sounding far too concerned.</p><p>“Lancelot caught me using magic back when I first met him, so he always knew. And I had a friend from Ealdor who caught me when we were younger. He died the first year I was in Camelot.” Merlin spoke the words without sadness, without grief. Just matter of fact.</p><p>And Gwaine couldn’t even bring himself to feel jealous, because this man had only had two friends who’d known this side of him. And they were both dead.</p><p>“And you couldn’t really trust someone who didn’t know,” Gwaine said, carefully keeping his voice emotionless. “And you never told someone on purpose.”</p><p>“Sorcerers are killed,” Merlin said flatly. “And to be more specific, sorcerers are killed by knights of Camelot.”</p><p>Gwaine felt his hands shaking, but he wasn’t sure why. Emotion, certainly, but what emotion? Anger? Horror? Outrage on Merlin’s behalf?</p><p>“Damn it, Merlin, the only reason I even <em>am</em> a knight is because you convinced me Arthur was worth it!”</p><p>“Arthur <em>is</em> worth it!” Merlin insisted. “Camelot is worth it! It might be imperfect, but look how far it has come!”</p><p>“You really believe that,” Gwaine repeated flatly. “When its laws would see you dead. When you’ve spent your whole life hiding and alone. When your fear made you think that you could just walk away, and we’d do a patrol, shrug our shoulders, and say, ‘Oh well, guess he’s gone!’”</p><p>Merlin sighed. “Yes, Gwaine. Even with all that, I believe it’s worth it. Besides, it’s not like it would be all that different anywhere else. Magic is persecuted in most places, even if it’s not outlawed. Here, I at least have people I care about.”</p><p>Gwaine’s hands clenched and unclenched several times.</p><p>“What about people who care about you?” he asked with forced evenness, and Merlin looked away, shaking his head slightly as though Gwaine were being deliberately obtuse. “You don’t think we do, do you? Even now. You think none of us know the <em>real you</em> well enough to care. That if we did, we’d turn our backs because you’re a <em>sorcerer.</em>” His voice took on a mocking edge on the last few words, and Gwaine didn’t bother trying to stop it. “I had no idea you thought so little of us. I had no idea you thought so little of <em>me</em>.”</p><p>Merlin sighed again, louder and more dramatically this time. “It’s not about thinking less of you,” he explained with a patience that reeked of condescension.</p><p>“Yes,” Gwaine interrupted. “That’s <em>exactly</em> what it’s about.”</p><p>“No,” Merlin snapped, and his eyes lit with anger. “Damn it, Gwaine, it’s not about <em>you </em>at all! I already said I’m sorry for not saying goodbye. You want me to say it again? I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But don’t you dare judge me for keeping my distance. Don’t you <em>dare</em> judge me for not being sure how you might react someday, because you have never said anything <em>remotely</em> kind about magic. Have you ever even given it more than a passing thought?”</p><p>Gwaine blinked, startled by the sudden change in tone, and at a loss to answer the question. Because of course he’d thought about magic. It was illegal most places, and frowned on pretty much everywhere else, and if you spotted something magical it was generally a good idea to steer clear of it. And…</p><p>Well. That was about it. What else was there to think about?</p><p>Except apparently there was a lot to think about, because maybe it wasn’t as bad as everyone said. And maybe it shouldn’t be avoided. And who knew what Merlin, who was brave and kind and protective, could do with that kind of power?</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” Merlin said with a bitter smile. “You found out I had magic the same time you found out I wasn’t dead, right?” He waited for Gwaine to nod. “Tell me the truth. What would you have said if you’d found out before I left? If you’d just spotted me using magic one day, and you didn’t have to wrap your mind around ‘my friend isn’t dead’ at the same time?”</p><p>It took Gwaine a moment to scramble for a response. “I guess we’ll never know. I might have taken it fine. I’m sure I would have had more than a few questions, but I might have understood.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Merlin replied coldly. “Might have. And might not have. You ever wonder what it would have been like for me if you’d been the one to arrest me? Or even if someone else had caught me, if you weren’t even involved at all, but as a knight, you had to attend the execution? You ever wonder what it would be like, to see your friend watching you while you stand there, waiting for the flames to catch your clothes?” Gwaine flinched, and Merlin smiled bitterly. “Don’t you<em> dare</em> judge me for being careful, <em>friend</em>. You have no idea what it was like.”</p><p>And this time, it was Merlin who marched away, slamming the door to his room behind him.</p>
<hr/><p>Gwaine would not have watched Merlin burn.</p><p>He’d thought about it a lot over the past few days. After his last fight with Merlin, he’d made a brief stop to stock up on supplies. Then he’d locked himself in his room, thankful his injured arm gave him an excuse to miss training. He’d downed bottle after bottle, and he’d considered the situation, and he’d come to some realizations.</p><p>No matter what he might have thought about Merlin’s magic when he found out, he’d never have watched him burn. He would have broken him out of the cells and gotten him out of Camelot. That a was fairly straightforward.</p><p>Other questions were harder to know with any certainty. Would he have been angry? Intrigued? He wasn’t sure. Surprised, certainly. Confused, at least at first. But once the dust settled, he really didn’t know how he would have felt about it.</p><p>But eventually… eventually he would have understood, right? They would have been okay. Because this was Merlin, and they’d traipsed across the kingdom together, and fought wyverns and fled slavers and faced hopeless battles, and damn it, <em>they were friends</em>. And maybe they didn’t see eye to eye about what all the idea of <em>friendship</em> meant, but if Merlin didn’t even realize that his friends would search for him if he went missing, that they would grieve his absence, that they’d fear the worst…</p><p>Well, yes. It made Gwaine angry that he thought so little of them.</p><p>But it also made Gwaine angry that Merlin didn’t seem to understand how much he mattered to them.</p><p>It made Gwaine angry that Merlin, who should always be smiling, had been so frightened.</p><p>It made Gwaine angry that Merlin had spent so much of his life hiding such an important part of who he was.</p><p>Merlin deserved better, and he didn’t even know it.</p><p>“You see,” he declared, stumbling as he pushed open the door to the infirmary, “the thing is, we’re friends.”</p><p>To his relief, he found Merlin in the room this time instead of Gaius. The younger man looked up from his dinner, his brow furrowing in befuddlement.</p><p>“Friends,” Gwaine repeated, dropping into the chair across from him. He misjudged the distance, though. He only landed halfway on it, and teetered for a moment before crashing to the floor.</p><p>“Gwaine!” Merlin cried, jumping up and rushing around the table to help him up. “Gods, how drunk are you?”</p><p>“Not drunk,” Gwaine declared. “Physisock- I mean philosopic – uh…” he frowned in concentration before giving up on the word. “Thoughtful. I’m thoughtful.”</p><p>“Right,” Merlin said with a concerned frown, guiding him into the chair and taking the one next to him. “And, uh, liquor helps you think?”</p><p>Gwaine nodded emphatically. “‘xactly. Knew you’d understand. Because we’re friends.”</p><p>Merlin stared at him for a moment, then let out a little laugh. “Yes, Gwaine. We’re friends.”</p><p>“You ran away,” Gwaine reminded him. “Without saying goodbye. That wasn’t nice. But you said sorry, and I think you meant it. You weren’t being mean. Just a bloody idiot.”</p><p>Merlin’s mouth pursed like he was tempted to argue, but he let it slide.</p><p>“So here’s the thing,” Gwaine said, slapping his hand on the table for emphasis, then wincing and glaring at it when the impact stung. He hadn’t slapped it that hard, but his palm tingled unpleasantly. He hoped he didn’t have a splinter.</p><p>“Gwaine?” Merlin prompted, and the knight’s head popped up.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“You said, ‘Here’s the thing…’” he reminded him, and for some reason it looked like Merlin was trying not to laugh.</p><p>“Right!” He dropped his hand back in his lap, choosing to nod for emphasis this time instead. “The thing is, we’re friends, and you’re going to have to learn to deal with that. I’ll search for you if you go missing and I’ll help you escape if you get arrested and I’ll help you fight thugs if you run off your mouth in the wrong bar.”</p><p>“Yes, I do have a problem with that,” Merlin said dryly, but Gwaine only half-heard him.</p><p>“Do you understand, Merlin? Friends care about each other, damn it.” He paused, his thoughts clearing a bit, and he suddenly felt a little bit embarrassed for saying too much.</p><p>But Merlin wasn’t laughing any more. He was studying Gwaine with somber eyes.</p><p>“I understand,” his friend said quietly. “I’d do the same for you.”</p><p>Gwaine waved a hand dismissively. “That’s not the point. I already knew that. Do you understand that <em>I would do it for you?  </em>Sorcerer or not. Would you <em>let</em> me do it for you?”</p><p>Merlin cleared his throat, opened his mouth, then paused and cleared it again. Even so, his voice came out scratchy. “I understand. And I’ll… try. I don’t have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. Trust and honesty and all that. But I’m trying to learn.”</p><p>And Merlin looked so uncomfortable, so uncertain, and so nervous, that Gwaine was sure he was telling the truth.</p><p>“Friends,” he declared again. Then he threw his arms around Merlin’s shoulders, nearly falling out of the chair again. “You’re a good friend Merlin. You’re lucky to have me.”</p><p>Merlin’s laugh was loud and unexpected. “Yes,” he agreed, patting Gwaine on the back. “I am.”</p><p>Gwaine frowned. <em>I am?</em> That didn’t make sense.</p><p>Oh. Shoot. He’d said that backwards, hadn’t he?</p><p>“Let’s get you some water,” Merlin said, pushing Gwaine away and standing.</p><p>“Water is for weaklings!” Gwaine protested, but Merlin ignored him. And Gwaine grumbled, but he drank the water.</p><p>“Tell me about it,” he said, putting the cup down and propping his feet up on the chair opposite from him.</p><p>Merlin tilted his head. “About what?”</p><p>Gwaine shrugged. “Your magic. Your travels. Whatever.”</p><p>Merlin considered for a moment, then mimicked Gwaine’s posture.</p><p>“Want to see something fun?” he said finally, and Gwaine grinned.</p><p>“Yeah, mate. I definitely do.”</p>
<hr/><p>Gwaine woke the next morning – well, maybe afternoon, judging by the sun – with the world spinning and his head throbbing.</p><p>Ugh. Merlin had warned him. He was going to be smug, wasn’t he? Gwaine would have to avoid him for a bit. At least until he could move without wincing.</p><p>He managed to scrounge together some food, then collapsed at the table, successfully avoiding a repeat of his fall the night before. He took a bite, then grabbed his cup and reached for a bottle.</p><p>But as he prepared to pour, he paused.</p><p>For the first time in a year and a half, he felt okay, pounding headache and queasiness aside. No fear or anxiety, wondering what had happened to his friend. No anger and confusion at the situation as a whole. Merlin was okay. He and Merlin were okay. Arthur and Merlin were going to be okay. Camelot and Merlin were going to be okay.</p><p>So with only a slight wrinkle of his nose, he filled the cup with water.</p>
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